Inside the still shaking cabin of the armored vehicle, the man with the black eye took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his own voice before giving the final order.
"We're turning back, now," he repeated, his fingers already sliding over the panel to trigger the retreat route. "No discussion."
The vehicle's rear thrusters spun up, starting the turnaround maneuver, the armored unit's nose slowly swinging in the opposite direction from that frustrating chase.
It was then that the three men noticed something none of them expected.
Instead of the motorcycles and that black car taking the chance to simply flee and escape while they could, as happened with most of the people they chased, which would have been the most logical reaction after more than twenty minutes of being hunted, the whole scene flipped completely before their eyes.
